Chapter 15

After two weeks of employing Tillie Kingsley, Lisa couldn’t imagine why she’d ever had any objections to a helper. Reliable, sweet, and energetic, the woman from Jamaica with the lilting accent had after-school snacks ready for the kids and dinner in full preparation each evening. Tillie showed up every day at noon for light housekeeping and laundry. Most important, she was there when the twins and Emily got home.

Mike had installed a nanny-cam system. Totally legal, and totally necessary for Lisa’s peace of mind. Mike had had no objections, either, but with Tillie now in the family, they could have saved their money. 

By mid-October, Lisa was deep into her second-year curriculum of law school, well into drafting briefs for her Constitutional and Employment Law courses, and working hard in her Juvenile Justice seminar and Juvenile Rights Advocacy course. The work didn’t daunt her. In fact, her spirits were high. She could glimpse her goal. If she could get through this second year, then she’d rock on to the third one. 

On a glorious autumn evening, she arrived home later than usual to find Tillie still at the house, waiting for her. With one glance, Lisa knew trouble had arrived on their doorstep. The nanny was wringing her hands.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry. My grandmother needs me. She is with the cancer in here.” Tillie tapped her chest and coughed to illustrate. Tears streamed down her face, reminding Lisa that the grandmother had raised Tillie. In essence, her nanny was losing a mother.

“I’m so sorry,” said Lisa, giving her a hug. “When do you leave?”

“In one day. Tomorrow. I am sorry, too. The children—they are so fine. Good boys and a sweet little girl.” Tillie departed amid hugs and promises to write, and Lisa called the agency, requesting another nanny.

“Just bad luck,” said Mike that evening. “Stuff happens in people’s lives.”

“True enough, but does it have to happen all at once? Andy was running a temp earlier, which means Brian is sure to get sick, too.”

In the middle of the night, both boys were burning with fever and coughing. Lisa stayed with them, dozed on the floor, and missed school the next day. She took the kids to the doctor and urged Mike to stay at a hotel. He couldn’t afford to catch the flu, not in mid-season.

It took two full days before the fever broke. Then Emily felt warm, and the cycle began again with three children at home in bed in different stages of sickness. 

In the end, Lisa missed a week of school, including two exams. When she took her makeups, she knew the results wouldn’t be up to par. A heavy knot settled in her stomach when she saw her scores. She had failed one of them. For the first time in her life, Lisa Delaney had failed an exam. 

The second nanny arrived, and Lisa breathed a sigh of relief. She could vindicate herself at school if she could concentrate only on her courses and allow Tillie’s replacement to take over the house.

Brenda Owens knew her way around a kitchen. She could make basic meals taste special. Lisa was delighted. 

“Maybe we lucked out twice,” she said to Mike as she dug into a shepherd’s pie two weeks after Brenda had started working for them. “This is good!”

Mike’s hand covered hers, his fingers stroking. “I’m afraid there’s a problem, honey, although it’s not with the food.”

Her appetite vanished. Mike wouldn’t kid around about this. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I viewed the nanny cam. Two young men have been here, probably her sons, and that’s against the rules. I also found cigarette butts on the front step.”

The tasty shepherd’s pie turned to cardboard in her mouth. “Strangers in the house? Were the kids here?”

“I don’t know for sure, but they weren’t on camera.”

“That’s it then,” she said. “We can’t take a chance. This experiment is over.”

“Not so fast. Let’s talk to her. Maybe her sons didn’t know the rules and just popped by.”

“Not likely. Your heart’s too soft, Mike. We’ve got to keep them safe.”

“Do you think I’d let anything happen to those kids? I like Brenda, though. I’d like to hear what she has to say.”

Lisa shrugged. “She’s a mom. She’ll cover for her sons.”

“She can’t deny the camera.”

She didn’t. But tears pooled and the woman’s voice broke. Her boys always asked her for money. “Ten dollars, twenty dollars. I don’t even tell them where I work anymore. I’m sorry. I don’t know how they found out.”

Someone at the agency? But Lisa had no proof.

“We’re sorry, too,” Mike said. “But we have young children here, and we just can’t be worried about this.”

Mike reached into his wallet and gave her five twenty-dollar bills. “It’ll help until you get your next assignment.”

A deep quiet settled over the kitchen after Brenda left the house. 

“If I fail another test or miss another deadline,” began Lisa, “I’ll be put on probation. I need to speak to my advisor.” A river of disappointment drenched her, and she began pacing. “I’d rather drop out while still in good standing. With ‘good standing,’ I could try to go back someday.” School could be postponed. The kids’ welfare had to come first.

Mike reached for her hand. “Maybe the third try will be the charm.”

“I’m not sure…I just can’t go through this…this roller-coaster ride again. High hopes and dashed ones. It’s too much.”

“You’ve been a powerhouse, Lis. I’m so sorry our deal didn’t work out. But I’m not sorry we gave it a try. Are you?”

She had to think about it. “It was always a risk, but now I’m more frustrated than ever. I’d even started counting down the semesters.” She rubbed her eyes against incipient tears. “Damn, damn, damn.  It could have worked…it just didn’t. But now, you won’t nag me about housekeepers and nannies. Th-that’s a plus.” Her voice quivered; her breath hitched. And Mike’s lips bestowed kisses along her temple and cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I don’t know what else to say except this: when graduation day comes and you do receive that diploma, I’ll be in the front row cheering the loudest.” 

Sometimes, her husband could be so sweet. But the excitement was gone. Her little-girl dream, gone. Her professional identity was painfully disappearing.  “Thanks,” she whispered. “But I’ll expect pom-poms with that cheer.” 

“You bet.”

She could feel her smile wobble as she relegated law school to the distant future. Maybe dreams were always defined with “someday.”

#

At the beginning of December that year, 2011, the Boston Riders stood at thirteen and one in the AFC. Super Bowl talk was whispered and sometimes spoken aloud—before the speaker was hushed. Superstition permeated professional sports, and Mike never pushed those boundaries.  

As usual, the twins had preserved every article about him and the Riders that appeared that season, the whiff of Super Bowl making the task extra special. They’d been throwing a football after school, themselves, and wanted to play on school teams. A bone of contention with Lisa. The sport was too dangerous for her brothers. They were too light, too skinny, too young, too everything. But Mike knew they had good hands, sensitive hands, and were quick to jump, catch, run, and anticipate the ball. Positive traits for the game. Potential talent to work with.

Lisa monitored the kids like a hawk, as if they were two years old. It was nonsense. But ever since dropping out of school again, she’d been acting like a…well, maybe bitch was too strong, but it was close. Maybe she was “displacing” her anger. He grunted at the psychobabble he’d picked up in conversation around the house. Dr. Julie was still part of their lives, but she couldn’t undo the nanny experience fiasco.

He left Revere Stadium on an overcast chilly Wednesday after an intense strength training session and a hot shower and headed for his new SUV parked near the entrance. He’d spend the evening watching videos of the Pittsburg Steelers in preparation for Sunday’s game. A home game. The whole family was planning to go, Lisa and the kids as well as his folks, who’d come into town the day before. He looked forward to seeing them all under one roof—his roof.

“Hey, Brennan. Wait up.”

He watched his wide receiver trot over. 

“A bunch of us are going to the north end for a good meal and good talk,” said Darrell. “Wanna go?”

He was tempted. Good, hot, Italian food—his culinary weakness—was actually an excellent choice with its blend of carbs and protein. More than that, however, he was tempted by the company. In fact, he’d prefer the company of his teammates that evening.

The thought surprised him, and he nodded at the other man. “I’ll call Lisa,” he said, reaching for his cell phone.

Sommars’ eyes widened and a grin spread across his dark face. “Never thought you’d leave that woman. We’re at Mama Rozetti’s, and we always have a private room. Know the place?”

Mike nodded. “One of my favorites. See you there.” Sommars ran off and Mike punched in his home number and got Emily. 

“I’ll tell her, Daddy Mike. She’s only making spaghetti anyway…”

Daddy Mike?  

“Em, can you find her?”

A minute later, Lisa got on. 

“I’ll bring a couple of lasagnas home for tomorrow,” he said, “but what was the Daddy Mike thing all about?”

“Do you really have to ask? Oh…never mind. Forget I said that. I’m not a shrink, but I’ll let Ms. Julie know.”

“Don’t bite my friggin’ head off.”

“Sorry. It’s been one of those days, always something with the kids. I’m trying my best, but I’m not the answer man.”

It’s not my fault. “See you later.”  He hung up and started the ignition, glad for the change of company that evening. He preferred the company of an upbeat bunch who thrived on winning, who thrived on possibilities.

An hour later, Mike looked around the table they’d commandeered in the restaurant’s back room. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard or listened to so many earthy jokes, so much salty language—the kind he tried not to use at home. The F-bomb and Emily certainly didn’t mix, and self-monitoring had become habit. But here, the warmth and camaraderie felt natural. He fit right into this fraternity of professional athletes, except that he was the only married player in the room. 

Shrugging off the observation, he dug into his meal, sipped his longneck, and jumped into the conversation. About Sunday’s game. About women. Finances. Pittsburg. Careers. Women again. The Steelers. Attendance at the stadium. The Steelers again. Not a word about the Super Bowl.  

“I like the way you think,” Mike said. “The season is played only one game at a time.”

“Hell, Brennan. I’ve heard you say that so often I hear your voice in my sleep.”

Mike’s grin turned into a laugh, and seven other guys joined in before attacking their meals again.

“We gotta win this one,” said a defensive end. “It’s a home game, and we’ll have eighty thousand people in the stands. Do you want to lose in front of that crowd? Besides, my folks are driving up from Atlanta.”

Now, that was commitment. “My folks are coming, too,” said Mike, “as well as Lisa, the four kids, my brother and sister-in-law. The only one not coming is my nephew, but he’s only a month old.”

“That’s nice, Mike. Nice that Lisa and the whole family will be there.”

Discreet eye contact passed from one man to the other after the last remark. Intuitively, Mike understood his personal life had been a topic of discussion at some point. He shrugged that off, too. If positions had been reversed, he’d wonder why the wife of the starting quarterback attended only some of the home games and none out of town.

He stood and pushed his chair in. “Study those videos tonight. I want to win.” Nodding toward the front of the restaurant, he added, “Besides, you owe me. I promised Mama Rozetti I’d say hello to her customers, which means you don’t have to!”

Their chuckles followed him through the door as he started his meet-and-greet with the diners. The Riders were a bunch of great guys. He knew they sometimes went out clubbing in the evening, too. He saw nothing wrong with a good meal, music, dancing, a little fun. He should hang around with them more often.

#

The Steelers were kicking their butts. Especially Mike’s. If he got sacked one more time… Damn, their defense was all over him like sauce on a pizza. He’d barely caught the snap before they brought him down right in the pocket. Where the hell were his guards? Probably overwhelmed, too.

Pittsburgh had definitely prepared. And Lisa would be covering her eyes. A recent behavior, so different from when they were both in college.

Nerves were showing on his guys. Keep your head, Brennan. Exploit Pittsburgh’s weaknesses. If ever a team needed a steady leader, the Riders needed him right now. Turn the game, turn the game around. And from the recesses of his mind, from his intense study and preparation, an answer came to him. A rarely used play, but worth the risk when trailing by thirteen points and having only six minutes left in the last quarter.

Mike took his place on the line of scrimmage, forty yards from goal. For this particular play, he stood six yards behind center to receive the snap. He signaled his guards for a shotgun offense. If his teammates were surprised, they kept it hidden. 

His center hiked the ball. Mike caught it, scanned Pittsburgh’s defense, and spotted Sommars, who looked as ready to receive as he’d ever been. Mike threw the ball in a straight line. His wide receiver ran to meet it, jumped, caught it, and drove toward the goal, three Steelers after him, and…crossed into the end zone. 

Touchdown! Noise from the stadium surrounded him. Do crowds really go wild? Yes!

The score was now 28-21. Mike’s heart burst with hope when the special kicker scored the point after, bringing the score to 28-22. All they needed was one more TD. Six little points to tie the score. With four minutes left in the game, their first job was to stop Pittsburgh from scoring so that the Riders could take possession of the ball again.

Pacing the sidelines now, Mike could only pray for an interception. If the Riders’ defense was hot, the ball would be turned over. The Rider guards were taking down the Steelers’ QB as many times as Mike had been sacked. Good. No yardage gains. And then…and then…oh, oh…how beautiful! His prayers were about to be answered.

Mike watched Nate Dixon intercept a pass at the Steelers’ thirty and move the ball to the Steelers’ fourteen before he was tackled. Yes! Yes! He punched the air. They were alive. They owned the ball. And eighty thousand screaming fans knew it. Mike and his offensive line trotted out to the field.

He was filthy, he was hurting, he was euphoric. The oval-shaped ball was an extension of himself. He no longer saw the crowds nor heard their roar. He saw one hundred yards of grass and teammates. Some blocked, some protected him, and others moved in their pass patterns, trying to get free. The Steelers’ defense rushed through his line to sack him, and the opposing secondary raced back to cover his receivers. 

Not one of his guys was open. His only chance was to squeeze through a hole in the line and run for the goal himself. Zigging and zagging past defenders, he ran toward the side and doubled back toward the middle, eluding defenders until he barreled through their linebacker and fell hard into the end zone. His body hurt. Like hell. Quarterbacks weren’t built to take the punishment of a bruising linebacker coming at them full force. He didn’t care. He was flying! Elated from tying the score, he now heard the frenzied fans cheering their QB. 

Tied score! Then bad luck. The special kicker missed the point after, but good luck followed. The Riders won the coin toss and had the first crack at scoring in overtime. After two minutes of play, they drove the ball far enough downfield to try for a field goal. The kicker kicked, the ball flew between the goal posts, and the game was over. A sudden death victory in overtime. By three little points. It was enough. 

Victories were always sweet. But some wins were sweeter than others. For Mike, this was major. 

“There’s nothing like a hometown victory in front of a great crowd,” he said into the microphone later in the press box. “Thanks, Boston, for being with us. And thanks to the entire team. Offense. Defense. Everyone was on top of their game at crunch time. The Steelers were tough opponents!”

The announcers wanted more specifics, but he gave credit to the entire team. He was already thinking about their next game. The Riders now stood at fourteen and one. If they wanted to maintain their position, he had to be prepared for the following week. And the week after that.

Mike waved to the crowd and made his way into the locker room. He’d use the hot tub, get a massage, and be driven home. Lisa and the kids would get there before him. Life was good. And if he needed more treatment for his bruised body, he’d use his own hot tub in the basement gym he’d designed in the new house. Maybe Lisa would join him. He felt himself stir and had to laugh. Some parts of him weren’t bruised at all. 

He looked forward to going home.

#

Lisa stared at her winning quarterback. Mike’s smile might become a permanent motif. Her husband was on top of the world, and Lisa wondered what that felt like. She was job searching again, but her heart wasn’t in it. Teaching was definitely second-best for her, which wouldn’t be fair to future students. So guilt resided in her gut. But Mike…he was still in the zone, still high from the win despite the bruising he’d taken. 

“Congratulations, champ. A good day’s work.” She kissed him and was twirled around the room.  

“The Mistress of Understatement,” he joked. “I’ll never get a swelled head at home.”

The kids had been too excited to sleep, and now the boys rushed him with a babble of talk, rehashing the game and the actions of their hero. Then they each ceremoniously shook his hand. It was a man-to-man moment, and Lisa didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Lis…” Jen called softly, nodding at Mike and the twins. “See what I mean? It’s not always about chores.”

Lisa startled. Where did that come from? Jen found it easy to criticize when the bottom line responsibility was someone else’s. Her glance landed on Emily, who, despite her best efforts to stay awake, had drifted off on the couch in the family room. 

“Hey, hero—do you have enough energy left to carry her upstairs?” 

Mike’s smile grew. His eyes gleamed. The man lived in a different stratosphere than the rest of them today. 

“Come on, boys,” he said. “You’re going into bed also.”  He lifted Emily and tucked her in his arms as though she weighed nothing at all. Rousing, she hugged him. “You won! You won. You can do anything.”

“For you, princess, I can do anything. Go back to sleep.”

She instantly closed her eyes and did fall asleep, as though she were hypnotized. When Mike laid her on the bed, Emily didn’t stir. Lisa rarely saw her youngest so relaxed. So content. 

As they left the girl’s room, Lisa squeezed Mike’s arm. “I think you make her feel safe. She never falls asleep so easily, and it’s wonderful to see. Thank you.” 

Could Jen be right about Mike’s relationship with the kids?  He was not the guardian. But could his influence on the children’s development be greater than Lisa had assumed?

“You’re welcome, and I hope it’s true. But don’t give me too much credit. The game ended late, and she could have just been tired.”

True enough. But more likely, her husband didn’t want the blame if something went wrong next time.  

“The kids are settling in bed. Why don’t you and I just celebrate?” he asked, leading the way downstairs again.

“Sure.” She could do that. “I’m celebrating that the countdown’s almost over. Only two more games left in the regular season. We’re almost home free from concussions, pulled tendons, and other miscellaneous injuries. I’m happy.”

He burst out laughing. “Is that how you measure the season?”

Nodding, she replied, “I’m getting to sound like your mother. Frankly, I’m glad the season’s coming to an end.”

“You’ve gotta have more faith than that. I’m fine.”

“You just like the fourteen and one standing.”

“What I’d really like is if you’d come into the hot tub with me. I could use another soak.”

She yawned. Bad timing, but she couldn’t help it. “I’m so sorry, Mike. I’ve got a subbing job tomorrow at my old high school, and I’ve got to get to work on time, which means early.”  She saw the disappointment in his expression. “Sorry,” she whispered again. She gave him a quick kiss and started for the stairs again.

“Hey, Lisa,” he called.

She paused in flight and turned toward him.

“You don’t need to work a temp job,” said Mike. “In fact, you don’t need to work at all. Stay home and kick back a little. And maybe we can begin to have some fun. Remember, we talked about that. Don’t you think it’s time?”

Maybe he’d talked about it. “Fun? I can’t even relate. But I suppose it’s a legitimate question from a guy who spends his life playing a game.”

His mouth tightened; his complexion got ruddy. “That’s not fair…”

But she was more than two years past fair. “I know it’s not fair. Of course I wish we could be like any other couple! But we’re not. My staying home won’t control the grief. It won’t make the hard times disappear and guaranty fun, fun, fun. And besides that, I’d go crazy.” She gripped the banister and shook her head. “I wish we had only sunny blue skies overhead. But we don’t. And you knew that when we got married. I told you it would be hard…and…and I’m so worn out.”

“So, what’s wrong with taking it easy for a change? Get some extra energy, some extra sleep.”

“It’s wrong for me. I’m not a lady who lunches or who knows how to decorate this huge house. But I’m also more than the quarterback’s wife, more than a substitute mother. I’m smothering beneath those jobs. I am so lost and don’t want to be lost. I remind myself that I am Lisa Delaney, and I need a life, too!”

Silence surrounded them, pounded in her ears.

Mike’s arm lifted. He pointed at her. “Try out Brennan once in a while. Lisa Brennan. See if it fits. See if you can get used to it. And while you’re at it—call the damn decorator and learn something. Make us a home.”

He turned and headed for the basement, the hot tub, and she couldn’t produce another word. Not one word to call him back. 

Not fair. I take care of everyone and protect you. I am making a home. The girl I used to be is disappearing, but I’m doing the best I can.  Walking slowly toward the master bedroom, her thoughts whirled, the last one echoing. I’m doing the best I can. It had become her refrain. Was it a mantra to relax her or a crutch to lean on?

#

Soaking in the hot tub was exactly what he needed. The irony was that his ego hurt more than his body at the moment. He’d gotten scared about that being lost stuff. But hell, she’d been rough on him.

Lisa Delaney. They’d been married two and a half years now, and she still thought of herself as Delaney. He wondered if she hyphenated it with Brennan when she signed her name. In the end, however, it really didn’t matter what she wrote on a piece of paper. What mattered was how she thought of herself and how she thought of them as a couple. Of course, she couldn’t forget her roots, but without Rob and Grace, and with her marriage to him, her family had changed. She didn’t get that. Lisa still saw herself and the kids as one unit. Sometimes, Mike actually felt like an outsider, and it hurt. The six of them needed to blend as a family, with him and Lisa in synch as the parents. The only time he and Lisa were in total accord now was when they made love. Thank God for that. But good sex wasn’t enough! 

Whoa! He slipped under water as he reached that conclusion. The big picture. He always looked at the big picture. Team Brennan was not a team, and that had to change soon. Seemed it was up to him to make it happen.